


and for you i was born

by stardusting



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4436084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardusting/pseuds/stardusting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Entreat me not to leave thee.” He sighs, mutters it to himself, and decides that this is just enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and for you i was born

**Author's Note:**

> written from 2am to basically 5am, was supposed to be less than 500 words but got out of hand.   
> i reread over this like five different time but if there are any mistakes still i'm sorry

There’s a boy that takes the tube the same time Will does in the afternoon. He gets off one stop before Will’s own and is on before he arrives, always in the same cart either sitting or standing. Will doesn’t know when he started mentally noting that the other teen was quite good looking and isn’t quite certain when he started to make sure that he ended up in the same cart as the other.

 It was something that just happening, an anomaly Will couldn’t quite place.

After five months of seeing the attractive stranger every weekday, there are things that Will taken notice of. Like how the other carries a violin case and supposedly a violin inside that case on Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays and how his hair is always dyed silver and that he speaks Chinese fluently. (Will was close enough to him one day to overhear the teen talking on the phone, speaking gently, with the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear.)

After five months, Will decides that he finally wants to speak to him, finally feels like it’s the right time to speak to him. It’s a good chance, it’s Friday so everything is a bit more packed than usual because of it, they’re stuck gripping the same pole, trying hard not to bump into each other each time there’s a lurching stop. Will’s got three stops before the boy takes his exit, so he decides now’s a good a time as any.

“If I knew three different schools would be having a fieldtrip I might have decided to walk today.” He makes it seem like he’s talking to himself for the most part, but he does spare a quick glance to the other and is pleased when they make eye contact.

“It’s not so bad, at least they’re small. They can only take up so much space.” Is a reply that comes five seconds later.

“But there are a lot of them.” Will insists, takes another look and forces his eyes not to stare. “They do take up a lot of space.”

There’s a moment of silence and another lurching stop and Will thinks the conversation has died, but he wouldn’t be surprised, they’re strangers after all. “I guess you’re right, the teachers are probably worried about splitting them up into different places.”

Will wants to say more, would like to continue the conversation, but the other has to go and it ends up feeling like another normal day.

 

The following Monday, Will sits next to him and tries at a conversation again and it works and works for each day Will tries. Their conversations flow smooth like water over rock, like they’ve been talking to each other for five months instead of these five days for short intervals of time.

He learns that the other’s name is James _please-call-me-Jem_ Carstairs and that he moved to London when he was ten and lived in China before that. Will tells him that he used to live in Wales and has two sisters and a younger brother. They talk about lots of things and at the same time nothing of great importance because they’re teenage boys and nothing really important happens when they’re only seventeen.

 

It takes three weeks of talking for Will to ask to exchange numbers so they end up communicating after that. He learns that Jem, despite his composed nature and such isn’t as serious as he seems.

_I’m having a fight_

_with who?_

_Church. Haven’t I told you about Church?_

_your cat???? i think you mentioned him once._

_Oh well, I’ll have to send you a picture of him once I find him but, we’re having a fight._

_howd you end up in a fight with a cat??_

_Last night he knocked orange juice on my notes and so I closed him out of my room the rest of the night._

_you’re terrible jem. i’d be upset too._

_Of course I am. Well now he’s decided to ignore me all day and hide._

_you two need counselling._

_probably do you have any recommendations?_

That following afternoon, because Jem texted him his hardship that morning, Will sees a picture of Church, a huge silver cat that looks composed of more fur than anything else.

“He’s a rescue. I found him on the streets in the cage when he was barely bigger than my hand, ended up having to nurse him back to health. You wouldn’t think he was a runt, but he was.” Jem explains and places his phone away.

“You really wouldn’t.” impressed, Will whistles low under his breath. “He looks like a brat, no offense.”

That sparks a laugh out of Jem and Will realizes that it’s a type of sound he’d want to bottle and keep forever. “He kind of is. He doesn’t like very many people and requires scratches and cuddles near constantly.”

Will thinks, suddenly embarrassed by his train of thought, that Church is a very lucky cat.

 

It takes them a month after exchanging numbers to actually meet outside of the station. It becomes a weekend thing whenever they can make it happen, them walking around London without a care. Having impromptu trips to the cinema and stealing food of each other’s plates when they eat out. People sometimes mistake them for a couple. It’s an honest mistake with how often they end up leaning on one another’s shoulders and how often their hands brush when they walk.

Will learns that he doesn’t mind the assumption, that he likes the way Jem gets flustered at the thought.

“Are we dating?” Will finds himself asking while they’re waiting in line to order food. The day is no real different than any other.

Jem looks at him all wide eyes and taken aback. He’s at a loss for words, something that rarely happens because Jem always seems to know what to say. “I-if you’d like us to be then yes, yes we are.”

Will allows himself to smile, large and purely happy, a type of expression he doesn’t tend to make around anyone besides his family and now Jem. “Great, I’m glad.”

 

Two months after that question and two months of holding hands and kissing and falling asleep curled up in each other’s arms, Will remembers.

He remembers Shadowhunters and demons and countless fights in black gear and limitless runes and scars. He remembers vampires with bloody teeth and werewolves that traveled in packs and finely dressed warlocks.

He remembers his curse that wasn’t really a curse and promising never to love and hearing his mother cry. He remembers Charlotte and Henry and Jessamine and Sophie and the Lightworms and the demonpox song. He remembers his children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews all running around.

He remembers Tessa and his love for her, his wife. Her never aging self only growing wrinkles when she placed them there due to her own volition. He remembers their copy of _The Tale of Two Cities_ and can’t really recall how many books they read and talked about but knows that each topic never failed to entertain him and make him love her more each time.

He remembers Jem of course because Jem is here now but he was also there, a pivotal person in Will’s past, present, and future. Will remembers Jem at his worst and his best, when he seemed breakable and when he seemed infallible. He remembers the pain of his rune fade and thinking that Jem was dead and the bittersweet joy of knowing he was alive yet following a different path that Will couldn’t follow.

(He could have followed him in death. He would have if things went differently.)   

They were lovers once, boys curious and too afraid to love anyone but each other. There were snatches of moments, them sneaking in the attic after the rest of the Institute was sleeping, them keeping each other company at night when Will had his nightmares or when Jem was in too much pain to sleep peacefully. They were _parabatais_ before that, willing to die for each other and whispering secrets and teaching the other important words and phrases in their mother tongue.

Jem was the one that ended it, the kisses in the attic and the hushed words of love in bed. Because Jem was dying and Will had already doomed himself by becoming his _parabatai_. He said Will loved too fully and holding onto him would only bring pain. Jem had no real future, but Will did. End the whole ordeal before they get much too deep (they were too deep already, easily drowning in one another) and before someone finds out. _Parabatai_ weren’t meant to be lovers. _Parabatai_ weren’t meant to be male lovers. They were breaking too many rules but neither of them really cared about that part, it just made it easier to think that they cared.

_can we meet up at the park tomorrow?_

_Yes why?_

_i just want to talk to you about something nbd_

_Well if you’re sure how about 4?_

_yeah sounds great_

 

When four rolls around the next day, Will isn’t nervous per se, but more so wary. He doesn’t know if Jem knows, but he doesn’t feel like he can keep this a secret. He knows too much, feels too many things, suddenly out of place in his own home and skin.

Jem is there are the park when he arrives, all bundled to ward off the winter chill. When they lock eyes, he greets Will with a smile and a small wave and Will wastes no time closing the gap between them, taking Jem’s face in hands seeing how his eyes are a deep brown instead of silver and how he has color to his cheeks instead of that death parlor he remembers that Jem having on most days.

“Will.” Jem breaths and shatters thought. “Your hands are cold, where are your gloves?”

Jem’s concern never seems to change, not even in different lives. There’s a wave of fondness and affection and he leans their foreheads together and lets their noses brush, lets their lips hover mere millimeters apart. This is his Jem but at the same time it isn’t or at least he thinks it isn’t and Will wonders what would happen if he says anything, wonders if he’d seem so odd that Jem leaves him.

“Entreat me not to leave thee.” He sighs, mutters it to himself, and decides that this is just enough.    

“Or return from following after thee –” is the response immediately after.

It takes Will all but two seconds to realize what just happened and he’s filled with shock, eyes snapping open and mind becoming suddenly alert. He keeps his hands on Jem’s arms, but gives some space between their faces. “How do you know that?”

“I learned it when I was younger.” Jem gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders but he’s tense now, Will can tell.

Will bites his lip, feels how dry it is from the cold. “When did you remember it?”

“Two days before I saw you. I decided to dye my hair because I felt like wouldn’t stand out if I didn’t.” There’s a laugh, more so a chuckle really, and Will thinks it might be because he knew Jem hated the silver of his hair, how it stood out. “I knew you were here, that you were close. I could feel it.”

“If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?” He feels slightly betrayed, but knows he probably shouldn’t since he thought about not telling Jem about remembering.

Jem shakes his head and sighs, a tired sort of gesture, like the cold has zapped away his strength or the look he tends to get when he thinks Will is exhausting a topic. “Because you didn’t know. I didn’t want to risk triggering anything before it was supposed to happen, a mind can be a delicate thing, Will.”

“And what if I never remembered?” For some reason, that’s a thought he doesn’t want to have despite not knowing for eighteen years. That life was a precious one and to have forgotten it made him feel like he was betraying those who lived it beside him.

“You’re happy in this life and you have a family and you love them. You’re wary at times, but you aren’t afraid to get close to people, you aren’t cruel for the sake of being cruel so people will hate you. I would have just left it. If you didn’t remember then that would just be how it was.”

There’s a stretch of silence after that as Will assess the weight of those words and knows how true they are. “Well I’m glad I did, remember that is.”

“Are you?” he’s wary with that question, eyes Will like he isn’t quite sure what to think.

“Yes of course.” He drops his voice lower, raises a hand to rest on Jem’s cheek, and smiles. “Because now, I remember how much you mean to me and I’ve been taking our time together for granted. You’re not dying are you?”

Jem breathes out a laugh and Will feels himself warm from his feet up. “Last time I checked I was healthy, save for the cold I got last week.”

“Yeah that was terrible, you could barely speak.” There was a lot of texting and tea and bags filled with tissues. It’s a wonder Will didn’t get sick too.

“It was because the weather was so cold and we insisted on staying out all day.” _Kind of like this_ is the unspoken phrase that Will hears regardless.

“Are you cold now?”

“A little, yes.” Jem sighs and Will thinks Jem does a lot of sighing these days.

Will, with all his growing affection for Jem, holds the other close to him, arms wrapped around his figure and Jem buries his face in the warmth of Will’s scarf. “How about now?”

“It’s satisfactory enough.” The reply is muffled, so it doesn’t exactly sound like that, but Will just assumes.

There’s a silence after that, the comfortable sort that happens. Will thinks about how grateful he is, knows that this wouldn’t have been able to happen in their life before.

“I’m glad you were right, Jem.” He says, breaking the silence.

He feels Jem move and doesn’t have to see to know that he lifted his head up to clearly. “I’m right about a lot of things, please specify.”

“About there being a life after the one before. I’m glad I met you here.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! not exactly the mordern au i wanted for them but yeah, maybe i'll write the other ones.   
> (the lil bro that will has is jace)


End file.
